Comfort
by MillerElizabeth
Summary: Stelena/AU/ Lovers Stefan and Elena spend one night together after months of cravings, mood swings, and sweet syrupy goodness.


Comfort

"Are you shitting me right now?"

I mentally face-palmed my bonehead boyfriend's brother. I swear Damon was mentally insane. Inside of a super cute Tiffany bag that I'm sure was vintage, knowing the Salvatore family, was a bunch of condoms. Of all the things I could receive on my nineteenth birthday, I got condoms from Stefan's older brother. Fucking disgusting.

"Practice safe, young child, you've got a hell of a lot to learn about love. Plus, you can never be too safe. Do I need to break out the banana?" Damon quipped, smiling a devilish grin and crossing his arms, leaning against the banister in my own home. There was something seriously wrong with this guy.

"Damon, I believe that won't be necessary. Now can you please tell me where Stefan is? If he's at the boarding house and you're just stalling me from going there, I'm going to be fucking pissed."

"Hey, hey, hey," he began, shaking his head, "watch yourself. Do you kiss your brother with that mouth?" He smiled again walking towards me with a strut that more than emphasized my loathing for him.

"Damon. Please. Tell me where he is." I crossed my arms as well, mimicking his earlier movements as I leaned on my right hip, trying to keep the weight off my other hip that I had hurt the other day.

"Yes, he's at the house—"

"Great. I'm leaving. Bye," I snapped, maneuvering around him and opening the front door. However, as soon as I stepped out onto the porch, Damon was at my side, walking in time with my footsteps.

"I don't know. Should you be up and at 'em in your condition—"

"Yes, Damon. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

I swear I heard him whisper, "Big is right," but I was already controlling my loathing for him, so exploding would have solved nothing.

Reaching my car, I quickly got in and locked the doors, making sure that Damon wouldn't follow me, but he just sat at my window, pouting and staring at me with puppy dog eyes. Putting my car in reverse, I backed up, looked towards the rear of my car, and neglected to peer over at Damon standing in my front yard.

I reached the Salvatore Boarding house in record timing, considering I was still angry with Damon for his present that he gave me. I once had had feelings for Stefan's brother, but he had proved over time to be an even bigger jerk to me than I'd anticipated.

Before I could even ring the doorbell, the large, mahogany entrance swung open and there stood my lovely boyfriend, in a tight brown shirt that accentuated his muscles perfectly. Having a loving significant other was one thing, but his great appearance was an added bonus. Smiling his gorgeous smile, he gestured for me to come inside. Feeling a little on the corny side, I pretended to curtsey, but ended up almost falling off balance. Never to fear, he quickly grabbed hold of me before I broke my other hip.

"Watch yourself there, babe," he cooed, steadying me until I could stand on two feet without tipping over. Following his gesture inside, I slowly made my way to putting my things on the front armoire until I felt a familiar pair of hands snake their way around my waist.

"And how is my love doing today?" he inquired, giggling and holding me tight. Moments like these were what I craved all the time: just standing together, lovingly holding each other.

"Quite awesome, actually. Save Damon's ridiculous present that he got me. I mean seriously, what is with him?" I questioned, spinning around to pout at the gorgeous god that was my boyfriend.

He smirked, holding me as close as he could, simply stating, "Damon is…Damon, so there's nothing I can do. Enough about him, though. How is my little one today?" he asked, bending down to make his head level with my protruding stomach. I was six months pregnant with a half-vampire, half-human child that Stefan had so wonderfully fathered. Placing both hands on either side of my enormous belly, he carefully gave my bellybutton a light kiss, receiving a moderate-felt kick in that region. Eyes widened in elation, Stefan looked up at me, simply overjoyed at the mere thought of fathering a child. After 163 years of living his life day by day, knowing none of his bodily functions worked, somehow he had managed to create something spectacular.

Placing both hands on my aching back, I leaned towards the wall, trying to take the weight off my feet, but I found no relief. Sensing my pain, Stefan quickly supported me as I waddled to the couch in the living room. Sitting on the coffee table was a warm pot of tea and some home decorating magazines that Stefan had taken an interest in as my pregnancy had progressed. He'd started drinking tea more often, as I drank tea almost like he drank coffee, and the magazines were simply for inspiration as to how we were going to decorate our baby's nursery. Taking over one of the three guest bedrooms in the Salvatore Boarding House, we'd painted the walls a lovely shade of turquoise, assuming that we were having a boy, whom we hadn't named just yet.

"Are you okay, Elena?" He questioned, worried and searching my face for some sort of answer.

"Yeah, Stefan, I'm fine. It's just hard carrying around this extra load of baby around all the time. I just need to stay off my feet for a while."

He took this as a chance to worry about me more than he should. Always a worrier, I might add. When there was something wrong, it was sure that Stefan was already fully aware.

"Oh, well, would you like some Advil? That won't affect your pregnancy would it?" he asked me. To be honest, I wasn't sure, but I felt that the pain from my backache would subside in due time. As I laid down on the couch, I felt a gust of wind and a relieve of strain on my neck as Stefan laid my head and upper chest on him and pulled out a Jane Eyre, a classic favorite of mine. Smiling, I leaned into him a little more as he began to read. As soon as he had read to the second chapter, however, I was already fast asleep.

When I woke up, it was darker outside, the fire was burning with a lower brightness than before, and I could hear the sound of Stefan breathing in close proximity. On the floor, Jane Eyre lied dropped and semi-open, and my tea mug stood near the edge of the coffee table. Draped around me was a warm blanket that shielded me from the cold outside, as it was November and freezing. Stefan stirred in his sleep as his arms wrapped around my belly, gingerly placing a kiss on the top of my head. "Hey there," he whispered, his voice thick with sleep.

"Hey, dude," I greeted, earning a slight giggle from him. Girly as can be, I never really acted very masculine, only when I was in a good mood would I even think about calling him "dude."

"We slept for a good…" he paused, checking his Gucci watch that I'd given him for his birthday last month, "two hours. Score."

Trying to lift up my heavy upper half, a familiar set of hands propped me up perpendicular to the couch cushions, soft and plush enough to sooth the dull ache in my back.

"You hungry, kiddo?" he inquired, bending down in front of me to retrieve Jane Eyre and my tea mug.

"Starved," I croaked, still exhausted from such a hectic day. Caroline had taken me out this morning, bright and early mind you, and shoved me from baby store to baby store, picking out baby clothes, strollers, the works…and being around that much stress and walking with an extra forty pounds through a crowded mall was putting a lot of strain on my already-swollen feet.

Taking my hand in his, Stefan gently pulled me up from the couch, catching me in his arms and placing a sweet, chaste kiss on my lips. As his kisses went from loving presses to little pecks, I realized we would have to be careful; any sudden ache of desire and my whole hormone level would sky rocket and make me more horny than normal.

But with abs like his…I was always horny. Let's be honest.

Guiding me into the kitchen, he sat me at the island counter, pushing in my chair with me in it (which was probably easy for someone with super human strength) and set to opening the fridge. Because I'd been practically living at the Salvatore Boarding House throughout the last of my senior year and now, pregnant and very fragile, Stefan had taken up the courtesy of buying all of the normal foods that I ate while I lived at home. Now, it was just Alaric and Jeremy, two friends that did a lot of stuff together, as my parents had died in a car crash. I found it special that Jeremy had someone to guide him like a father, and finding solace in Alaric's compassion set my mind at ease.

"What'll it be, babe? We've got lots of leftovers that Jenna brought over, plus, all of the cooking I've learned over the last century has been utterly sublime, so please, choose away," he told me, smugly. Arrogance was not a particularly strong trait of Stefan's, but when he tried to do it in the context of humor, it came off so naturally.

"Hmm," I pondered, "well, I do really want some pancakes. With chocolate chips and whipped cream and strawberries, please."

Staring into my eyes for a second, Stefan's mouth dropped a little, and I cocked my head in confusion. "What?"

"I just confessed to you that I'm probably the best chef in the history of forever, and you want me to make pancakes?" He said, hurt. However, I detected the slightest hint of sarcasm, and all of the guilt that I was prepared to endure ultimately vanished.

"Just make me the god damn pancakes."

Putting his hands up in defeat, he spun around in his place and began to place all the ingredients that he needed on the counter.

For about twenty minutes, I proceeded to gaze at Stefan's back as I watched him whiz around the kitchen and dazzle me with his culinary skills. Unfortunately, my mother had only taught me how to make sandwiches, ramen, and mac & cheese.

"Voila, mademoiselle," he cooed, faking a French accent and placed a gourmet meal in front of me, complete with bacon and a glass of milk. Giving me a set of silverware, I began to chow down as Stefan came around from behind and gently kneaded my tense muscles.

"Damn, these are good," I mumbled, mouth full of pancake. "You're really good at making pancakes."

"That's not the only thing I'm good at, doll," he joked, chuckling and grabbing me for a loving hug.

"What the fuck ever," I snapped, rubbing his arms around my chest before stuffing my face with another mouthful of pancake and a gulp of milk.

We spent the rest of dinner in silence, except for my disgusting eating habits, until my plate was virtually clean. Deciding that it was probably time to head upstairs, I finished wiping my plate dry before putting it back in the cabinet and before Stefan could object to me cleaning.

Upstairs in Stefan's bedroom, I went over to my side of the bedroom and opened my little armoire of my clothing that I had gradually accumulated since moving into the Salvatore house. Stefan had finished cleaning up downstairs a little before I heard him walking up the stairs. Topless, I screeched "Don't come in here!"

Hugging my chest, I twisted to see him casually leaning against the door frame, smirking. "What? I've already seen you naked plenty of times,"

"I know," I said in a "duh" manner, "but that was forty-plus pounds ago. Elephantidis has taken over. Searching frantically in the drawer behind me, I found a nice, large shirt to wear to bed. "Please turn around."

Walking towards me, obviously disobeying my pleas, he removed my hands from my chest and looked only into my eyes. "Babe, you're still smokin'. Believe me, there is nothing about you that has changed. You're still my favorite love ever."

Smiling, I watched as his eyes stayed glued to mine and he lowered himself until he was eye level with our baby ten thousand leagues under the sea. Kissing my tummy gently, I felt this overwhelming desire forming in the core of my stomach, and my toes began to curl.

Obviously, he knew what that meant, and a familiar smirk was etched on his face. "Whoa there, kiddo. Someone's a little…_hot,_" he cooed, his velvet voice sending shivers through my veins and down my legs. My lady parts were va-jiggling and it was a good feeling.

Slowly rising from my belly, Stefan's hand found mine and he pulled me towards the bed. Waddling, my gigantic ass found the bed, and he gestured for me to scoot back. Resting my head on the new Temper Pedic pillows we'd just ordered, that smirk was sending pulses down there, and I was about to explode. Crawling towards me like a tiger, I braced myself for what crazy thing Stefan was about to do. He was very restrained in public, with his thirst for human blood and all, but in the bedroom, he was a fucking sex fiend.

Hovering over me, lips on lips melded in synchronization, but they were somewhat soft and understated. Instantly I knew what he was doing. _The bitch is teasing me._

Hot, open-mouth kisses peppered my neck as I moaned slightly, ecstasy brought on by very trivial sensual acts. Thanks to forty pounds of baby fat and amped up estrogen levels, my body was having a fucking frenzy.

Down my chest and onto my breast, Stefan took a nipple in his teeth and sucked gently while palming my other tit. Gifted his hands were as they kneaded and did wonders to my lust for him. Wanting more, I involuntarily moaned louder, with a whispered, "more…_more"_

"What was that, babe?" he questioned, but I knew he was teasing me with his words, his smirks and smiles, his baby face and hero hair. God, was I horny.

"Fucking **more**," I growled at him. As if that was the answer he'd been searching for, his deft fingers left my tits and his mouth returned to mine, meeting again in harmony that seemed unreal. Fumbling with my shorts, he finally gave up and ripped them as if they were made of cheap toilet paper.

"What is this?" he stopped, lifting his lips from mine, though I was far from finished, and sitting back and looking at my underbelly. "_No panties,_"

"Too….many….layers," I managed to breathe, grabbing the hem of his shirt and frantically pulling it up and over his head. He needed to be naked…now.

"Oh, baby, you do it me," he roared, descending onto my lady bits. Swirls of desire clouded my judgment as his tongue did things I'd forgotten he could do. Forget about tying a cherry stem in your mouth – he fucking boy-scout-knotted that shit.

The deeper his tongue went, the more emotions I felt surfacing and I could feel the hot coil within me beginning to tighten and heat up. Squirming as usual, he grasped my sides harshly, but light enough to avoid hurting me, and plunged his mouth farther into me. For an added bonus, his fingers moved in harmonization and brought me to a climax that I had oh so missed in our bedroom endeavors. Shaking in ecstasy, I screamed out his name, holding onto his hand as he licked me clean.

Head raised, he gave me a mellow, elated look as he crawled back up to meet my lips. He smelled of cologne, musk, and a hint of cinnamon. Cinnamon = hot and sexy.

"Oh, baby," I breathed, scratching his head as it moved up and down with my belly. "That's just what I needed."

Lips curved into a smile – I could feel it on my skin – and I guided his head to look into my eyes. "I love you," he whispered, "You're my favorite love ever."

Gently kissing him on his forehead, sarcasm lingered in my vocals. "Aww, wish I could say the same, pretty boy."

Grinning and chuckling all at once, he pulled the covers over us, eyes watching each other as if we were comets in the sky.

"Pancakes?"

"Motherfucking pancakes, doll," he growled, throwing the sheets above us.

"Well, this is awkward," a masculine voice spat, and really, after having such a good day.

"Jesus Christ, Damon. Get the fuck out." We said in unison. Favorite love ever, definitely.


End file.
